


Homework

by Ishmael_Autolycus



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Mental Health Issues, Non-Monogamy, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Past Relationship(s), Single Parents, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishmael_Autolycus/pseuds/Ishmael_Autolycus
Summary: Someone unexpected saves Westerburg. And what happens after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This goes in a different direction than my previous AU.

_Late April, 1988_

_Sherwood, OH_

“Where is he? Have you seen him? I need-”

Pauline Fleming composed her face into the calm- yet friendly and supportive- expression she had been practicing for just this sort of moment. “I know this must be difficult for you, Veronica,” she began, placing a sympathetic hand on the teenager’s shoulder, “but we really should talk. Suicide is one of the most important decisions a teenager can make, and it affects not only-”

Veronica Sawyer felt her jaw drop. What. The. Fuck? She did not have time for this bullshit. “Get a job,” she interrupted, shrugging Fleming’s hand off her shoulder and walking away.

“Miss Phlegm has officially lost it,” Veronica declared as the door to the girls’ bathroom swung shut behind her.

“Did she ever have it?” Heather Duke responded, not looking away from the mirror as she brushed mascara onto her eyelashes. Heather McNamara snorted in amusement, continuing to file her nails as she leaned against the opposite wall.

Veronica smirked and went to the second sink, pulling a tube of lipstick from her pocket as she inspected herself in the mirror. “Say,“ she said, trying to sound casual, “have you guys seen JD anywhere?”

Heather Duke rolled her eyes. “How very.”

Veronica’s eyes met Heather McNamara’s in the mirror as the other girl gave her a sad, sympathetic smile. “He wasn’t in class this morning,” she said gently.

Veronica slammed the tube of lipstick down on the edge of the sink and whirled to face the other two girls. “Hey. I’m the one that dumped him.”

“Yeah?” Heather Duke shot back. “Cause the way you’ve been moping around’s got everyone thinking-”

“I have not been moping,” Veronica protested. “I’ve been- been- I’ve just... had a lot on my mind lately, that’s all.”

“Whatever.” Heather screwed the cap back on her bottle of mascara and dropped it into her bag as she turned away. “When you find him, remind him to give me the return receipt for that petition,” she said over her shoulder.

Veronica ducked her head, letting her hair fall forward to conceal the contemptuous smirk tugging at her lips. If Heather only knew how utterly and completely she’d been-

“Or should I ask Jenny Grant?”

Veronica’s head snapped up. “What?”

Heather McNamara straightened, grasping a handful of her own shirt and tugging downward as she leant forward. “Hi, JD,” she said in a breathy voice, batting her eyelashes.

Veronica’s lips thinned, her hands clenching into fists.

“There’re a couple more,” Heather added in her normal voice, releasing her shirt and straightening up. “She’s just been the most obvious about it.”

“But then, being obvious seems to work with JD,” Heather Duke said archly. “How did Heather put it? ‘Practically jumping on him crotch first’?” Heather McNamara tittered, but shot Veronica an apologetic glance as well.

“I need to fucking pee,” Veronica growled, stalking into the closest stall and slamming the door behind her. Moments later, she heard the bathroom door open and close as both Heathers left.

Really, it was none of her concern if that asshole was fucking some skank now. They were through. T-H-R-O-U-G-H through. He didn’t fucking deserve her; he never had. Thank God she’d come to her senses. To think she’d almost believed he’d actually felt bad, seeing her hanging there. Not if he’d gone from her to that fucking cow he didn’t. Fucking asshole.

And God, how could she have forgotten what an absolute toady Heather McNamara was; she should have fucking left the bitch on that bathroom floor.

Veronica slumped. No, she shouldn’t have. For all her faults, Heather was a genuinely sweet and nice person who always saw the good side of things. And people. And even Heather Duke- Veronica wasn’t entirely sure she liked the new Heather- but it was better than worrying she’d puke herself to death.

Veronica leaned back against the stall wall, then straightened back up as the gun- JD’s gun- no, fuck him, it was her gun now- dug into the small of her back. She’d worn the bulkiest jacket she had- at least without digging out her winter parka- and she still worried about somebody noticing something. Maybe she should just stash the gun somewhere and tell someone- tell one of the teachers- what JD was up to. Fleming was an idiot, but Mrs. Ramey was pretty on the ball, and Veronica was one of her best students. She’d listen. Or maybe Mr. Drake, since Mrs. Ramey was an old lady after all. He’d wanted her to take AP Physics this year, which usually only seniors did, and more importantly he was a big guy. He’d be able to take JD down if it came to that.

And then what? JD was clever; there was a good chance he could still talk his way out of trouble. And if he said anything about those suicide notes- Veronica knew she was good, but she wasn’t that good. If someone really looked, they’d figure out they were forgeries. And enough people knew about her talent that someone was bound to tell the cops. Yeah, she felt bad about Heather, and wished to God it hadn’t happened; but she wasn’t about to give up Stanford.

No, her only chance was for JD to be caught red-handed trying to blow up the school, then anything he said wouldn’t be believed. Worst case, she’d say he’d forced her to write those notes, threatened her parents or something.

Veronica set her jaw and marched out of the bathroom. She would find him, and she would stop him. And if he wouldn’t stop... well, she’d already shot one asshole. People would call her a fucking hero and shit.

Where the fuck was he? She’d been over the entire fucking school, including the teachers’ lounge (which was kind of disappointing) and the boys’ bathrooms (which were kind of disgusting; although to be fair the girls’ bathrooms could get pretty bad too sometimes) and she couldn’t find any sign of him, or anything that even looked like it might be explosives. Hell, she’d been down this hallway three times already. If she couldn’t-

The bell rang, sending students flooding out into the corridor around her. Veronica looked frantically around, then grabbed at somebody going past, feeling obscurely relieved that it was someone whose name she knew. “Rodney. Where’s everybody going?”

“It’s Friday,” Rodney answered.

“Shit. Another damn pep assembly.” Of course. Everyone would be packed inside the gym, instead of spread out through the whole school. Fucking perfecto. But wait, she’d looked there, and besides the gym was a big, open area; there really wasn’t any place to hide anyth...ing- “Rodney,” she interrupted, cutting off whatever he was nattering about, “what’s under the gym?”

Rodney puffed up his skinny chest. “The boiler room,” he declared proudly.

The boiler room. How the fuck could she have forgotten about the goddamn boiler room? What was it his father had said? A Norwegian in the boiler room, setting off a pack of thermals upstairs? Rodney started to say something else but she walked away, joining the crowd of students streaming towards the gym.

Veronica ducked beneath the bleachers as soon as she could. She thought the door to the boiler room was around here some- A match flared; Veronica gasped, reached for her gun.

“Hey, V.”

“Fuck, Trace.” Veronica slumped in relief as Tracey took a long hit on her joint. “And don’t call me V.” She straightened, making sure her jacket still concealed her gun. “Hey,” she added, “you know where the door to the boiler room is?”

Tracey blew out a stream of smoke. “Over on that side, right by the first set of bleachers.”

“Thanks.” Veronica started to turn away, then turned back and held out her hand. Tracey’s eyebrows rose, but she handed Veronica the lit joint. Veronica took a hit, held the smoke in her lungs. “Thanks,” she croaked, handing the joint back.

”No problem,” Tracey answered. Veronica blew out a stream of smoke before striding away. Tracey shrugged and took another hit.

Veronica glanced over as she crossed the gym floor, taking in the crowd of students milling about. Betty and Jessica and another girl she vaguely recognized were stepping up into the bleachers, hands waving in animated conversation. Beyond them Dennis and Allison sat holding hands, giggling together over who knew what. This was why she needed to stop JD- because there was more to Westerburg than just assholes.

Veronica reached the boiler room door. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure none of the teachers were looking her way, she twisted the knob and opened the door just enough to slip inside.

Veronica pulled her gun out, holding it out in front of her with both hands as she crept down the stairs. When she reached the bottom she found another door. Taking one hand off her gun, she twisted the knob and eased the door open a small amount before returning both hands to her gun and shoving the door the rest of the way open with her foot.

The boiler room gaped in front of her- a dimly lit cavern filled with hulking shapes and noisy with countless sounds she couldn’t identify. She moved forward, eyes darting desperately from shadow to shadow. The students above began stamping their feet, adding to the din around her.

Veronica crept through the boiler room, peering around corners and through the maze of pipes and ducts and shit, straining her ears for something, anything that would tell her where JD was hiding.

Veronica blew out a breath, letting the barrel of her gun sag to the floor. She’d been through the entire boiler room twice, and the only other living creature she’d found was a gray tabby she’d almost shot before realizing what it was. Whatever JD was planning, this wasn’t it.

Veronica sighed and trudged back up the stairs, barely remembering to put her gun away before cracking open the door and peering out into the gym.

A few scattered groups of students were standing on the gym floor chatting, but most seemed to be heading out the doors. The pep assembly was over. Veronica opened the door and slipped out. Before she could close it a gray blur shot out, brushing past her leg and disappearing beneath the nearest set of bleachers.

Veronica walked down the steps to the school parking lot. A sudden loud bang made her whirl, then she identified the rumble of Andy Ostriewski’s souped-up Chevelle. He revved the engine, making it backfire again before peeling out of the parking lot.

More cars streamed out of the parking lot, and Veronica felt herself relax. School was over, and everyone was still alive. Whatever JD’s plan had been, something had gone wrong. Or right, she supposed. But that still left the question: Where the fuck was he?


	2. Chapter 2

Veronica moved carefully towards the rear of the Deans’ rented rancher. JD’s motorcycle, and the trailer they used when they moved, (he’d explained to her once that, rather than trying to move an entire houseful of stuff every few months, his father simply rented them a house and the necessary furniture close to wherever his next job was) were the only vehicles in the driveway. Hopefully that meant JD was home, and his father wasn’t.

Veronica pressed her back against the wall next to JD’s window, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Whatever happened, whatever he might say or do, she had to stay firm. Had to remember him crawling in her window, intent on killing her. How he had meticulously planned the deaths of all their classmates. Whatever his reasons, however his voice had shaken when he’d thought she’d hung herself, the raw honesty when he’d said he was hoping to win her b- No. No. She knew what he was. Could not let herself doubt that. Would not let herself hope that the JD she’d thought she knew was back somehow.

Veronica took another breath and launched herself into action, shoving the window up in a single convulsive move. She poked her head and gun inside, only to find JD wasn’t here either.

With a grunt, Veronica hoisted herself through the window and fell into the house. How the hell did JD manage to make this look so easy? Her room was on the fucking second floor after all; shouldn’t that make it twice as difficult? She picked herself up off the floor and listened carefully for any sign she’d been heard.

After a few moments, she carefully opened the door and stepped out into the hall, her gun at the ready. It didn’t take long for her to determine no one was home.

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me where he is, do you?” Veronica asked, sticking her gun back in her waistband. Friedrich squeaked in response. “Didn’t think so.”

Friedrich squeaked again. Veronica’s eyes narrowed. The hamster’s water bottle and food dish were both empty. JD loved the little rodent; there was no way he’d leave it like this. Hell, he’d even insisted on covering the hamster’s cage with a t-shirt before she thoroughly apologized to him for letting Heather talk her into that date with Kurt.

Veronica’s lips curled into a smile at the memory. But then of course, the idiot had to ruin things by hijacking her plan to humiliate those two morons. Not that they were any big loss but still, it was the principle of the thing.

Veronica looked around JD’s room. “Let’s get you some food...” Her voice trailed off as she spotted the stack of books on JD’s desk, and the sheaf of paper between two of them. Hardly daring to hope, she lifted the top of the stack off and set it to the side.

_We, the students of Westerburg High_\- Veronica drew in a sharp breath. This was it: the false petition everyone had signed. If she took it, then maybe- Friedrich screeched.

Veronica jumped. “Jesus.” The hamster looked back at her imploringly. “Right, sorry.” She’d been here once while he’d fed Friedrich; where had he gotten the food from? Oh right, that big Japanese-looking tea tin thing on the bookcase.

The tea tin was about half-full; Veronica dumped a scoopful into Friedrich’s dish before turning her attention to the empty water bottle. It took her a moment to figure out how to get the bottle loose from the side of the cage, then she took it into the bathroom and filled it with water.

“Hold on, hold on,” she chided Friedrich as the hamster eagerly latched onto the nipple of the water bottle. “Let me just...” She carefully let go of the bottle. “Got it. You must’ve been thirsty, little guy.” Friedrich ignored her.

Veronica looked around JD’s room one more time, the false petition clutched tightly in her hand, then she ducked out the window and ran back to her car.

“Where have you been?” Veronica’s mother demanded.

Veronica blinked. “At- At Heather’s-”

“We called,” Mrs. Sawyer snapped. “Both of them.”

Mr. Sawyer laid a calming hand on his wife’s arm and held out his other hand to his daughter. “Give me your keys, Veronica.”

“But-”

“Your keys,” Mr. Sawyer repeated firmly.

Veronica’s grip on her keys tightened. “But I- My- My stuff. I need-” She’d just been planning to grab a few things from her room, so the gun was still in the glove compartment, and the false petition was on the front seat with her textbooks.

“You can get your things after we’re done.”

Veronica meekly placed the keys in his outstretched palm.

“Thank you,” Mr. Sawyer said, putting the keys in his own pocket. “Sit down, Veronica.”

Veronica sat on the couch, her eyes darting between both of her parents. Her mother was being uncharacteristically quiet, hands clasped tightly together in her lap.

Mr. Sawyer glanced over at his wife, then turned his attention back to Veronica. “Your mother and I have been talking-”

“Look, if this is about that thing with the noose I’m really, really sorry and I promise I won’t-”

“That thing?” Mrs. Sawyer shot to her feet, towering over her daughter. “That thing? I thought you were- you were-”

“Penny, please.” Mr. Sawyer placed both hands on his wife’s shoulders and guided her back down. Mrs. Sawyer clenched her jaw and looked away. Veronica was shocked to see a tear roll slowly down her mother’s cheek.

“It’s not just that, Veronica,” her father continued. “You’ve... changed.” He hesitated, then added, “How many other times have you lied to us?”

“I’m- I’m sorry-”

Mr. Sawyer rubbed his forehead. “Maybe- Maybe this is our fault. Maybe we’ve been too indulgent with you, haven’t given you enough guidance-”

”Bill.” Mrs. Sawyer placed a hand on her husband’s arm, wiped at her face with her other hand. “What your father is trying to say is: we’ve made an appointment for you with a therapist on Monday.”

“A therapist,” Veronica repeated. “You... th-think I n-need a- a-” She couldn’t help it- the laughter burbled up from someplace deep inside her, bursting forth in wave after wave until she was left sobbing for breath, tears streaming down her face.


	3. Chapter 3

“Yeah sure I got it.” Veronica took the sample cup from the nurse and stepped behind the partition. Really, how stupid did they think she was? Checking for any possible medical issues? Yeah right. She’d known this asshole would be a quack as soon as she’d heard he’d been recommended by the school. Her parents weren’t listening to her though, and to top things off they’d put her under house arrest for the weekend. Still though, how long did pot last in your system anyway? She’d gotten that one hit from Tracy, but that wasn’t enough to count, was it? The last time she’d really smoked had been that joint she’d split with Heather on the way to the Remington party. Surely that was long enough ago, right?

Mentally crossing her fingers, Veronica capped the sample cup and smoothed down her skirt before stepping around the partition. The nurse was standing just outside. “Wash your hands and have a seat, sweetie,” she said as she took the cup. “Give me a minute and then we’ll take that blood sample.”

“How very.” Veronica washed her hands and then sat in the room’s only chair, idly looking out the window at the hospital parking lot across the street. The only reason they’d even stopped at that particular Snappy Snack Shack was because Heather had gotten the munchies. The party would still have been lame, and Bart or Brett or whatever the fuck his name had been still wouldn’t have gotten laid, but maybe if they hadn’t run into JD Heather wouldn’t have been quite so obnoxious about some cousin of hers who’d gotten knocked up and dumped by some guy who just happened to ride a motorcycle, and she wouldn’t have had to point out how pathetically obvious Heather’s succession of increasingly wealthier so-called boyfriends and holy shit, was that Bud Dean’s El Camino pulling out of the hospital parking lot?

“I said, which arm?”

Veronica jumped. “Oh. Um, this one’s fine.” The nurse was standing to her left so she lifted that arm.

“I’m going to need you to roll your sleeve up, honey.”

“Oh, right.” Veronica unbuttoned the sleeve of her blouse and began rolling it up. She’d been desperate enough that she’d even tried calling the Deans’ house, hoping JD would pick up. Instead she’d gotten their answering machine twice and Bud Dean himself the third time. She’d hung up as soon as she’d heard his voice and hadn’t dared call back again. She’d even slept with her gun under her pillow, half-fearing JD would come crawling in her unlocked window.

”There you go, just hold that for about a minute.” Veronica looked down to see the nurse pressing a piece of gauze into the fold of her elbow; she hadn’t even felt the needle go in.

Veronica glanced down the hallway to the doctor’s office. Her parents were still in there, probably doing paperwork and shit; that must be why her father had brought his briefcase. Still, maybe if she was quick- “Hey. Is it all right if I um, go stretch my legs?”

”Sure, sweetie. Just don’t go too far.”

”I’m his girlfriend,” Veronica stated. “I just saw Mr. Dean out in the parking lot; he said it was fine.”

“Room 308,” the receptionist answered. “Third floor, turn left when you get off the elevator, about halfway down on the right.”

“Thank you!” Veronica threw over her shoulder as she dashed for the elevator.

Veronica bounced on her toes as the elevator creaked slowly upwards. Christ Almighty, at this rate she would have been better off taking the effing stairs.

This was probably a bad idea- no, scratch that, this was definitely a bad idea; her parents were going to totally freak- but not knowing had been driving her slowly insane. Whatever happened, it would be worth it. Probably. She hoped.

Veronica squeezed out between the opening doors and darted down the corridor, only slowing when she was just outside the open door of Room 308. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she took two more steps forward, and stopped in the doorway.

JD looked up. “Veronica!” His face blossomed in a smile. “I knew that loose was too noose. Uh, noose was too loose... loose... goose... moose... caboose...” He snickered. “Moose caboose.”

Veronica stared. Out of all the possible scenarios she’d envisioned, this was... not one of them.

“Sorry, sorry,” JD flapped a hand in her general direction. “Still a bit... a bit...” He gathered himself together. “They give you the good shit when you’re on suicide watch.”

“Suicide watch,” Veronica repeated flatly. She glanced over at the other bed in the room- it was empty, and stripped down to the bare mattress. She fumbled for the door and shut it behind her before moving to stand beside JD’s bed, only then noticing the restraints on both of his wrists. “You’re on... suicide watch?”

JD lifted his hands in a shrug, then let them drop back into his lap. She could see he had enough freedom to gesture and probably to feed himself, but not to get out of the bed. “Yup. Crazy, huh?”

“H- How..?”

“Well, turns out my pop keeps a closer eye on the explosives than I thought,” JD answered. “I mean, I knew the thermals were going to have to be last minute, there’s no way he couldn’t have missed that many going missing, y’know? But, I mean, those are pretty simple, right? It’s the trigger bomb that’s the tricky bit.”

“O...kay.”

“So I figured, I should probably do like, a dry run, right? Make sure I knew what I was doing. So I kinda borrowed a detonator and shit. Except Dad noticed and, considering everything that’s been going on lately and well, Mom, he came to the obvious conclusion.”

Veronica stared at JD. “He thought... you were planning to kill yourself?”

“Yup.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

JD shook his head.

“Oh. My. God.” Veronica found herself half-sprawled on the edge of JD’s bed, her legs having given out beneath her. She laughed, clutching her hair with both hands as she rocked back and forth. “Oh my fucking god.”

JD laughed as well. “Yeah, I know. Crazy, right?”

How dare he? How fucking dare he act like this was some kind of fucking joke? Veronica shot to her feet, her palm connecting with the side of JD’s face and snapping his head to the side.

JD straightened back up, eyeing her warily. She could see the red handprint she had left on his cheek, and it filled her with a savage satisfaction. “I... guess a favor is out of the question, huh? Two favors, really.”

She glared at him.

“It’s Friedrich,” he added hastily.

She blew out a breath. “What?” she growled.

“Could you just... check on him for me? Please? I mean, my pop said he was fine, but he had this real funny look when I asked him and-” JD spread his hands.

Veronica blew out a second breath and deliberately unclenched her fists. “What’s the second favor?” she asked evenly.

“The petition. It’s on my desk.”

Veronica narrowed her eyes.

“Get rid of it,” JD continued hastily. “I don’t know, burn it or something, I don’t care. Just... get rid of it.”

”Why? I mean, yeah, of course I’ll check on Friedrich but, why should I help you with anything else?”

“Because-”

“Shit, you’re bleeding.” She moved forward, reaching out to him.

“What?” JD’s hand went to his mouth. “Where?”

Veronica heard the door swing open behind her, and turned to see Bud Dean and her parents standing in the doorway.

“What the fuck?” Bud demanded.

“Veronica!” her mother exclaimed.

Veronica glanced back at JD; the drop of blood at the corner of his mouth had dripped down his chin, leaving a trail behind it, and while her handprint on JD’s cheek had faded, it was still clearly visible. “I- I-”

JD swiped at his mouth and tried to stand, only to be frustrated by the restraints. “It’s- It’s not what-”

Bud stormed forward and grabbed Veronica by the arm, yanking her away from his son’s bedside. “You little witch, I knew you were trouble from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He shoved Veronica at her parents. “Keep your tramp of a daughter away from my son. He was doing fine until she got her claws in him.”

Veronica’s mother caught her and pulled her further back as her father stepped forward, his palms out in a calming gesture. “Look, we sympathize with how you must be feeling right now, but Veronica had nothing to do with- with-” he gestured toward the bed, “why he’s here.”

“She was just worried about her friend,” her mother added.

“Friend?” Bud gave a sharp laugh. “Considering how often she’s been over, and the sounds I heard coming from his room, I’d say they’re a bit more than friends.”

Veronica felt the blood drain from her face. He’d fucking heard them? Her eyes met JD’s; he looked as horrified and appalled as she felt.

Bud cocked his head, a mocking smile on his face. “You didn’t know about any of this, did you? Where’d she tell you she was, a girlfriend’s house? The mall?”

Mr. Sawyer glared at Bud. “Let’s go, Penny.”

Veronica barely registered her mother pulling her out of JD’s room and down the corridor to the elevator. The Sawyers rode the elevator down and crossed the street in stony silence, Mrs. Sawyer gripping her daughter’s arm like a vice the entire way.

“D- Daddy-”

“Get in the car, Veronica,” Mr. Sawyer said firmly. “We will discuss this later.”

“Pl-”

“I said, we will discuss this later.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Dear Diary- If JD wants me to burn the petition, it's only because he has something else planned, something worse, right?_

_Or has he genuinely changed his mind?_

_How can I tell? He's lied to me before._

Veronica stared unseeing at the room before her, teeth worrying at her lower lip.

_I'm going to have to get close to him again,_ she continued, _get him to trust me. If he is planning something worse, then I'm still the only one who can stop him._

_And yes, Dear Diary, that does mean resuming our relationship. I can't risk some other girl falling victim to his seductive wiles. Just the thought of it- of him holding her, making love to her- turns my stomach._

Veronica paused again, pen poised in the air.

_But what if he really has decided not to blow up the school? Not murder any more of our classmates? What then? What do I do? What do I want to do?_

_And how can I ever know for sure?_

"Veronica! Come down here, please."

"Coming!" Veronica called back. _Well, time to face the music. Wish me luck._ She closed her diary, placing the pen neatly atop it, then removed the monocle from her eye and tucked it into her pocket. She stood, carefully composing her face in a meek, penitent expression before leaving her room and going downstairs to face her parents.

  
  
  
  


"They took away your phone too? Isn't that like, against the Geneva Convention or something?"

Heather Duke rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure the Geneva Convention doesn't apply to teenagers who get caught fucking their boyfriends, Heather." She glanced over at Veronica. "Sorry. Ex-boyfriend."

Veronica shoved her books into her locker. "Whatever. I'll deal." She looked down the hallway. "We're doing dodgeball in gym this week, right?"

"Yeah," Heather McNamara answered slowly, turning to follow Veronica's line of sight. "Oh."

Veronica's lips curled back from her teeth in a wolfish grin. "Good."

Heather Duke raised an eyebrow. "He is still your ex-boyfriend, right?"

Veronica turned her head to look levelly at Heather.

"Oh Lord." Heather straightened from her slouch against the locker next to Veronica's. "What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

Heather shook her head. "It's your funeral."

"It's romantic," Heather McNamara countered. "Like- Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the like, people dying and... stuff. Well, without any more people dying. Hopefully."

Veronica raised her eyebrows. "Well? Wanna help me teach the little skank a lesson?"

Heather Duke examined her manicure. "Dodgeball seems a bit... pedestrian."

"I never said that was the only thing I have planned."

Heather tilted her head. "Oh?" Then her mouth twisted in a one-sided smirk. "What the fuck, why not?"

"Yay!" Heather McNamara clapped her hands together, bouncing up on her toes.

Veronica shut her locker. "Come on." The three girls turned and stalked down the hallway, Veronica in the lead, their eyes locked on Jenny Grant.

The girl Jenny was talking with saw them first. Her eyes widened, and she took an involuntary step back. Jenny turned, and Veronica could see the fear flash across her face before she straightened her shoulders. "L- Look," Jenny began. "I-"

The trio swept past Jenny without a word- although Heather McNamara did turn her head as they passed- and continued on to gym class.


	5. Chapter 5

_Dear Diary- This is ridiculous. It’s been a week. I mean, Martha <strike>Dumpt</strike> Dunnstock was back in school after a couple days, and she got hit by a freaking bus! The whole point of tormenting Jenny like that was so nobody would even look at JD once he got back. (Something I learned from Westerburg’s own Machiavelli in mascara- publicly and utterly crush just one person, and the fear of it happening to them will keep a hundred more cowed and obedient.) But that doesn’t work if he’s NOT FUCKING BACK!!!_

Veronica tapped her pen against her chin._ I’ve been good- I haven’t tried to call him (granted, the parental units wouldn’t have let me call him if I had asked, but my point still stands), I haven’t tried to sneak out (but hey, if he happened to sneak in the window I’d left open, that wouldn’t have been my fault, right?) but I am fucking OUT OF PATIENCE!!! If he doesn’t show up soon, and with a damn good explanation, I swear I’ll-_

“Veronica!” Her mother was standing in front of her, looking annoyed. “I called you three times.”

Veronica huffed out a breath and closed her diary. “You could’ve just honked.” She took the monocle from her eye and placed it in her pocket along with her pen.

“Taxi drivers honk,” Mrs. Sawyer responded as she turned and walked back to her car.

Veronica got to her feet and trudged in her mother’s wake. She opened the door and slumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Put your seat belt on. And sit up straight- you’re a young lady, not a sack of potatoes.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, but reached up to pull the seatbelt down and buckle it. She remained defiantly slumped in her seat, even though that meant the edge of the shoulder belt was now digging into the side of her neck.

Mrs. Sawyer sighed and shook her head, silently putting the car in gear and driving out of the school parking lot.

“I know you’re upset,” Mrs. Sawyer began, breaking the silence. Veronica continued to stare out the window at the passing scenery. “And if your father and I had realized that Miss Lemming was the one who had actually recommended Dr. Byers... well, we would have looked harder.”

Veronica couldn’t help glancing over at her mother. Messing up Miss Phlegm’s name had probably been an honest mistake on her part. Probably.

“Still, though,” Mrs. Sawyer continued, “it’s not like Sherwood is exactly swimming in child psychologists. So could you at least try to cooperate?”

“I’m not a child, Mother.”

“I know,” Mrs. Sawyer answered sadly.

“Fine.” Veronica shifted in her seat, sitting up so the shoulder belt was no longer digging into her neck. “If it will get all this over with quicker.”

“I guess that will have to do.”

Veronica glanced over again; her mother was looking entirely too satisfied. She was tempted to slump down once more, but that shoulder belt had hurt. Fine. She’d give her mother this round.

  
Dr. Byers folded his hands on top of his desk. “However, our tests did find elevated levels of hCG in Veronica’s blood and urine.”

Veronica slumped in her chair. Fuck. So pot really was detectable for that lo- wait. Pot was THC. What the fuck was hCG?

“What is- I’m sorry, what was that again, Doctor?” Mrs. Sawyer asked.

“hCG,” Dr. Byers answered. ”Human chorionic gonadotropin. And it means,” his eyes shifted back to Veronica, “that you're pregnant.”

Her mother was the first to react. “That’s impossible, Doctor. Veronica has been taking birth control pills to regulate her periods since she was-”

“I... forgot.”

“What?”

“I forgot,” Veronica repeated. “After Heather- After we heard about Heather I... kind of forgot to- to take it.” She usually took it after she woke up, but between the party and strip croquet, she hadn’t actually gone to sleep that night. She’d thought about it as she and JD were putting their clothes back on, but figured she could take it after they got back from Heather’s. After Heather’s... well, she’d had other things on her mind.

Her mother had ended the session early after that, and they’d driven home in silence.

“We’ll call Dr. Kahun in the morning,” Mrs. Sawyer announced as they walked in the kitchen, “see if he can recommend someone.” She placed her purse on the counter and hung her keys on their usual hook. “I suppose it’s... That Boy’s?”

Veronica bristled. “His name is JD. And yes, Mother, it is. I’m not that big of a slut.”

“Don’t get smart, young lady. When I was your age, a girl who’d gotten herself in trouble like this would’ve had to go to some quack in some back alley somewhere. And pray he’d be competent enough she’d survive. Or get torn up so badly inside she might not be able have a child when she wanted her.”

“Sorry,” Veronica muttered sulkily.

“Hm.” Mrs. Sawyer eyed her daughter. “Your father will talk to his about splitting the cost- considering how boorish he was I don’t expect much, but I suppose it’s possible for even people like that to have some sense of moral decency.” She sighed. “What on earth were you th-”

Veronica snatched the keys from their hook and dashed out the door. She backed the car out of the driveway with a squeal of tires, then shifted into forward gear and rapidly accelerated away, ignoring her mother’s angry shouts.

The “For Rent” sign in front of the Deans’ house simply confirmed what Veronica had already been suspecting. Nevertheless she threw open the car door and dashed up to the house.

The carport was empty: Bud’s car, JD’s motorcycle, the trailer they used when they moved- all gone. The curtains were gone from the big bay window by the front door, and she could see into the empty living room, stripped of all its furniture.

“You bastard!” she screamed, pounding and kicking at the locked door. “You fucking asshole!” She collapsed against the door, her voice coming out in a broken sob. “You goddamned fucking bastard.” Then she turned and limped back to the car. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that there is a jump of approximately 10 years and 500 miles between the previous chapter and this one.

_Early September, 1998_

_Mount Pleasant, Washington, DC_

“Veronica... Wakey-wakey.”

Veronica cracked open one eye to see an attractive blonde in a flight attendant’s uniform smiling down at her. “Did you just say-” Her eyes flew open, “Shit!” and she started to scramble out of bed.

“Relax,” Hanne said, placing both hands on Veronica’s shoulders. “He was already up when I got home. He’s downstairs having breakfast.”

Veronica slumped in relief.

“And I turned the coffee on.”

Veronica smiled, “You’re an angel,” and kissed Hanne before swinging her legs out of bed. “How was work?”

Hanne grimaced. “Packed. And not one, not two, but three infants making it very clear they were Not Happy.” She fell back on the bed, arms spread wide. “I swear, the entire flight at least one of them was screaming. As soon as one got settled another one would start up.”

“Poor baby.” Veronica gave Hanne a sympathetic smile as she belted her robe, then leaned down to kiss her again. “Now get up before you wrinkle your uniform.”

Hanne groaned, but sat up.

“How’s Dinah?”

“Good, good. Still going to every audition she can, hoping for her big break." Hanne waved at the bedroom door. “Go on, get your coffee.”

Veronica went downstairs and into the kitchen. “Morning, kiddo.”

“Morning, Mom,” Jazz responded around a mouthful of cereal, not looking up from his sketchbook.

Veronica poured herself a cup of coffee, then looked around for the sugar bowl, spotting it on the table next to Jazz. She looked into his cereal bowl as she sat down. “You know that stuff’s almost pure sugar already, don’t you?” She poured a generous spoonful into her coffee and stirred.

“I know,” Jazz replied, taking another bite.

Veronica sighed and shook her head. “Your teachers are going to love you.” She took a sip of coffee, grimacing at the heat. “Speaking of, how are you liking the new school?”

Jazz shrugged. “It’s all right.”

“Your first art class is today, isn't it?”

“I guess.”

Veronica reached across the table and gently grasped Jazz’s hand. “You guess?”

“What if- What if the teacher hates my stuff? Or the other kids think it’s dumb?”

“They won’t,” Veronica answered. “And if they do it’s because they’re idiots with no taste.”

Jazz looked up and grinned. “So does that mean I don’t have to listen to them? Even the teacher?”

Veronica shook her head. “Sorry kid, doesn’t work that way.” She glanced over at the clock. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be leaving soon?”

Jazz nodded, taking the last few bites of his cereal before standing up and placing his bowl in the sink. “Love you, Mom,” he said, kissing Veronica on the cheek before grabbing his book bag and heading out the door.

“Love you too, sweetie,” Veronica called after him. “Good luck.” She stood, and fixed herself a bagel for breakfast before going back upstairs.

She was soaping her legs when the shower door slid open and Hanne slipped in behind her. “I’m supposed to open the store this morning,” she said, leaning back against the taller woman.

“Well then,” Hanne replied, sliding her hand across Veronica’s belly, “we’d better make this quick, hadn’t we?”

  
Veronica flew down the stairs and across the backyard. “Morning, Señora Montalva!”

The elderly widow looked up from her plants. She and her late husband had emigrated from Chile in the 1970s, along with two of their three children. Now she lived alone in the smaller one bedroom apartment on the lower level of a converted row home, while Veronica and her family rented the larger two bedroom apartment on the upper levels, and pretended they didn’t know she owned the entire house. “Morning, dear. Did you need me to check on Jazz when he gets home from school?”

Veronica shook her head. “Hanne’s home, but thank you.” Veronica considered herself extremely lucky to have found this apartment when they’d moved here from Seattle earlier in the summer. Not only was the rent quite reasonable, but Montalva was more than willing to babysit Jazz when asked. Her own grandchildren lived too far away for regular visits, so she treated Jazz as a sort of honorary grandson. Since Jazz’s own grandparents still lived in Ohio, it worked out all around.

Plus it was one of the few homes in the neighborhood that hadn’t had its backyard paved over for a parking pad, or had a garage installed. Instead Montalva grew vegetables that she gave away to her neighbors. Of course that meant their car was at the mercy of the gods of street parking, but Veronica considered that a small price to pay for fresh vegetables. And at least there was enough space for her motorcycle. Veronica buckled her helmet, then wheeled her bike out the gate and into the alley. She glanced back, double checking that the gate had closed behind her, before mounting her motorcycle and roaring off.

She managed to get the bookstore open on time, although not without breaking a few traffic laws along the way.


	7. Chapter 7

“But really, bisexuality is actually a symptom of psycho-sexual immaturity,” the young woman in front of Veronica said earnestly. The other young woman beside her nodded in agreement. “It’s a developmental phase,” she continued. “Books like this just encourage a false consciousness-”

“I’ll let the manager know of your concerns,” Veronica said through gritted teeth. “Was there anything else?”

The young woman opened her mouth again, but before she could speak her friend tugged her away from the counter. “Forget it, Heather. I’ll bet she’s just some breeder bitch slumming it.” She glared at Veronica. “A real lesbian would already know this stuff.”

”Like you?” Veronica’s lips curled in a mocking smile. “Fifty bucks says you don’t last past graduation.”

The second young woman’s jaw dropped, then she whirled and stormed out of the store.

“We’re telling the owner about you, and then you’ll be sorry,” the first young woman threatened before turning and going after her friend.

Veronica shook her head and slumped against the counter. “Of course your name would be fucking Heather,” she muttered. She blew out a breath and straightened back up. She wasn’t particularly worried about the threat to report her- the fact that this gay and lesbian bookstore had a number of books on not only bisexuality, but also transgender issues, polyamory and more, should have clued the two in that their ideas would not be particularly well received. Still though, she was glad the store had been otherwise empty during the confrontation- the owner had discussed keeping her temper in check when she’d been hired as a keyholder, no matter how ignorant someone was being.

Veronica’s pager buzzed. She unclipped it from her belt and read “Dancing 2nite?” on the display. She picked up the store phone and dialed. “Have you talked with Mrs. Montalva yet?”

“Yup,” Hanne answered. “Everything’s taken care of.”

“You’re beautiful. And since it’s Straight Night, they’ll probably let me in.”

There was a pause, then Hanne responded, “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Veronica answered. She sighed. “Nothing important, just a couple of college brats. The whole bisexuality isn’t real, people who say they’re bisexual are really just deluded- that whole thing. I mean, it’s not like some mouth-breather’s going to be like: ‘Oh, you’re bisexual? I guess you’re only a half-pervert then, so we’ll only half beat you up and say you’re going to half-Hell’. Being bi does not make me a bad lesbian.”

“Well, deluded or not, you manage to keep this lesbian pretty happy.”

Veronica pouted. “No fair. I’m trying to be mad here.” She glanced up as the bell over the door rang; a young man in a Georgetown sweatshirt was standing hesitantly in the doorway. “Hold on a sec; got a customer.” She set the receiver down and smiled brightly at the young man. “Come in. Welcome to the premier gay, lesbian and bisexual bookstore in North America.”

The young man smiled nervously, not meeting Veronica’s eyes as he stepped into the shop, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Feel free to take a look around, and if you have any questions I’ll be right here.”

The young man nodded, and sidled towards the gay men’s section.

Veronica picked up the phone. “All right, I’m back. Now, do we want to go femme or butch tonight?”

“Hey babe, saw you out on the dance floor there. You’ve got some pretty hot moves.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. She’d chosen to go femme tonight, donning a black Marilyn Monroe-style halter dress and black heels. “Thanks,” she answered flatly. “One cosmo, one gibson, please,” she said to the bartender.

“I like the ink, and that nose ring’s pretty cute too. Got anything else that’s pierced?”

“Maybe.” Veronica turned her head to face the person speaking to her. “Not that you’ll ever get to find out.”

"Aw, don’t be that way, beautiful. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t at least a little curious. Ditch the boyfriend and let me show you how good another woman can make you feel.”

Veronica laughed as the bartender set her drinks on the bar. “You must not have been watching too closely.” She paid, signaling for the bartender to keep the change, and picked up the drinks. “The cosmo’s for my girlfriend, asshole. But better luck next time.” Her lips curled in a smirk as she turned away, and Veronica let her hips sway just a bit more than usual as she sauntered over to Hanne, who was wearing an ice-blue mini dress with white go-go boots that showed off her long legs. Veronica thoroughly kissed her girlfriend, then handed her the cosmo.

Hanne glanced over Veronica’s shoulder. “You are an evil woman.”

“Thank you.” Veronica linked her arm with Hanne’s.

“At least she wasn’t another overgrown frat boy,” Hanne offered as they wandered back towards the dance floor.

“Butches who act like frat boys aren’t exactly an improvement,” Veronica responded, taking a sip of her gibson.

“Valid point,” Hanne conceded, taking a sip of her own drink. “Oh hey, do you remember Fernando?”

“Vaguely.”

“Ran into him on the way back; he’s here with his new boyfriend.”

“Isn’t he the one you said falls desperately in love for like a week and a half, then suddenly realizes it will never work out?”

Hanne laughed. “It’s a bit longer than that, but yes, that’s him. Although he usually finds someone new pretty quickly too.”

“Well then, let’s go meet the latest true love du jour.”

“I think he said the guy does construction, or something like that.”

Veronica took another sip of her gibson. “A bit of the rough trade then?”

Hanne rolled her eyes. “Oh, there he is.” She gestured to a man in white pants and a pink mesh shirt that showed off his dark skin. “And that must be the boyfriend.” Fernando’s hand rested at the waist of a second man standing with his back to them, wearing black pants and a blue sleeveless dress shirt that displayed muscular, tattooed arms.

“Got a nice ass, at least,” Veronica commented.

“Behave.” Hanne waved, Fernando smiled and beckoned them over. The boyfriend turned.

Veronica halted. “JD?”


	8. Chapter 8

“V-Veronica! You- you cut your hair.”

“What?” Veronica blinked, half-lifted her hand to the tousled pixie cut she’d had for years. “Oh, yeah, um-”

“I mean, it looks good,” JD added hastily. “You um, you look um, good.”

“Th- Thanks.” Veronica felt a smile tugging at her lips even as her cheeks flushed, like a teenager under the fluorescent lights of a Snappy Snack Shack. She raised her chin. “I like the beard. It suits you.”

“Thanks,” JD ran a hand through his hair. “Wow. Um, wow.”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Fernando asked.

JD and Veronica exchanged a glance. “We ah, we dated,” Veronica answered. “In high school.” She heard JD draw in a sharp breath- he’d seen the tattoo on her arm, had realized its meaning.

“So,” Fernando continued, “is this a good thing or a bad thing?”

Veronica narrowed her eyes at JD as his gaze came back up to meet hers. “Yes.”

“Yeah,” JD echoed.

Fernando looked back and forth between them. “Got it.”

“Hi.” Hanne thrust out her hand. “Hanne Agnarsen.”

JD automatically took her hand and shook it. “Jason Dean.”

Hanne tilted her head slightly. “Jason, huh?” She glanced over at Veronica.

“Yeah,” JD responded, glancing over to Veronica as well. “I usually go by JD though.”

Veronica discreetly elbowed her girlfriend in the ribs, “So, how did you guys meet?”, then took a sip from her gibson.

“We’re in the same men’s nude yoga class,” JD answered.

Veronica sputtered. “What?”

JD smirked. “It’s yoga done-” 

“I know what it is, jerk,” Veronica responded, wiping at her mouth. “I’m just not sure which is more surprising: you doing yoga, or-” she gestured with her drink, “this.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“Yeah, well.” Veronica found herself taking a step closer to JD. She raised her chin and looked him directly in the eye. “I’m not the person I was back in Sherwood.”

“Neither am I,” JD responded and God, she’d forgotten how gorgeous his eyes-

“Ooh, I love this song!” Fernando declared. He grabbed JD’s arm and started tugging him toward the dance floor. “Come on. We are dancing to at least one song tonight.”

Veronica laughed at the look of alarm on JD’s face as he was hauled away. “This I have to see.”

Hanne took a sip of her cosmo as they stood at the edge of the dance floor. “He’s got Jazz’s smile. Or more accurately I suppose, Jazz has his.”

Veronica blew out a breath. “Yeah,” she admitted.

“Does he know?”

Veronica shook her head. “He’d moved by the time I found out.” She took a sip of her drink. “I tried sending a letter, but the only address I had was his dad’s work.” Her mouth lifted in a one-sided smile. “I was pretty vague- Mr. Dean didn’t like me, thought I was a ‘bad influence’.” Veronica looked down. “And maybe I was.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Veronica sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Hanne took another sip of her drink.

“It’s... complicated. Anyway, does Fernando know about Jazz?”

Hanne shrugged. “It’s not like I keep you guys a big secret or anything.” She cocked her head. “He’s actually not bad. I wouldn’t say good, but not bad.”

”I didn’t know he could dance at all,” Veronica confessed.

Hanne smirked. “Let me guess- you guys were the couple at Prom dressed all in black, standing against the wall snarking at everyone and everything, but never actually daring to get out there and dance.”

“My dress was blue,” Veronica protested. “With some black,” she admitted. “But mostly blue. And I wou-”

A large, intoxicated man stumbled into Veronica, almost knocking the drink from her hand. “Whoa. Shorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s fine,” Veronica responded, transferring the drink to her other hand and trying to shake off the spilled liquid.

“C’mon, Curt,” the man’s equally intoxicated girlfriend whined, pulling him away. “You said you’d dance with me. You promised.”

Veronica froze as the couple stumbled onto the dance floor.

Hanne snorted. “Straights.”

Veronica breathed out a laugh, wiping her hand on her dress. “Right. And besides, I never went to Prom anyway.”

“Oh don’t worry, honey. If it was anything like mine you didn’t miss much.”

Veronica turned to see JD and Fernando had rejoined them. “Well, since my date to the Junior Prom went and moved away on me...” She let her voice trail off as she gave JD a theatrically menacing glare. Although truth be told, she hadn’t really wanted to go anyway. Even if she had wanted to, Jenny had made damn sure the entire school knew Veronica Sawyer had gotten herself knocked up and then abandoned, and no teenage boy wanted to be stuck with someone else’s leftovers. Not even the geek squad. How Jenny had found out she had no idea, although she suspected either Heather or Heather had let something slip. Probably Heather, but either way it had been the end of her friendship with both girls.

JD held up his hands. “That wasn’t my fault; my dad took me straight from the hospital. I didn’t even know we were moving until I saw the trailer.”

“You could have called,” Veronica responded. “Or written. Or something.”

“I figured after you knocked a couple of my teeth loose-”

“I did not hit you that hard,” Veronica protested. “And besides, you deserved it.”

“Wait, wait, back up,” Fernando demanded. “Hospital?”

“You hit him?” Hanne chimed in.

“Long story,” JD and Veronica chorused, then JD continued, “And besides, that was just your Junior Prom. If you missed your Senior Prom too it wasn’t because of me.”

“Don’t be too sure of that,” Hanne muttered, taking a large gulp of her drink.

Veronica shot her girlfriend a glare. “I was... already out of school by that point.”

JD nodded. “Right, right, I remember, you talked about maybe graduating in December and,” he hesitated, “traveling? Somewhere?”

Veronica blinked. She’d more or less forgotten about her half-formed plans to wander the country like some sort of modern-day distaff Jack Kerouac before heading off to Stanford. “Right,” she muttered. She’d started her senior year needing only two more classes to graduate- a gym class and some bullshit elective- and noticeably pregnant. The school administration had strongly suggested that she was “no longer suited for the Westerburg community”, and had offered to credit her those last two classes so she would at least have her high school diploma when she left. She’d taken their offer, of course- there’d been a girl during Veronica’s sophomore year, a senior she thought, who’d gotten pregnant. It hadn’t taken long before she’d been suspended, and eventually expelled, for reasons Veronica still wasn’t clear on. Last Veronica had heard she was working at some fleabag motel on the old highway outside of town, cleaning rooms and, rumor had it, providing other services for the truckers who stopped there.

A silver pendant in the shape of a pair of twin overlapping inverted triangles, dangling from a chain around JD’s neck, caught Veronica’s eye. She grinned, relieved at the chance to change the subject, and raised her eyes to see JD eyeing her back warily. Her grin softened into a smile. “Y’know, if I wore a necklace like that half the straight boys in this place would be trying for a threesome with me and their girlfriend.”

The wariness faded from JD’s eyes, and his eyebrows rose as he returned her smile. “Only half?”

“The rest don’t have the slightest clue what it means.”

“And at a gay club, too.” JD shook his head sadly.

Veronica shrugged. “Their girlfriends bring them.”

“How very,” JD said quietly, and she only then realized that she’d moved closer to him as they’d been speaking. Or perhaps he’d been moving closer to her.

Veronica almost yelped as an arm slid around her waist from behind.

“It was lovely meeting you,” Hanne said, “but it’s getting late and Veronica needs to be at work in the morning.”

“R- Right,” Veronica stammered. “Work.” Although to be honest she couldn’t remember if she was scheduled to work tomorrow or not.

“Oh. Yeah okay right,” JD responded, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. “I uh-” he glanced over at Fernando as if suddenly remembering he was there, “we uh, we should probably get going too. Work.”

Veronica let Hanne tow her out of the club and into a taxi. “What the fuck was that?” Hanne demanded as the taxi pulled away from the curb.

Veronica licked her lips. “What was what?”

“That,” Hanne repeated. “What happened between you two?”

“Nothing,” Veronica protested. 

Hanne looked levelly at her. “Nothing.”

“We dated, we broke up, he moved, I found out I was pregnant,” Veronica answered. “That’s it.”

“Right,” Hanne said finally.

They rode the rest of the way back to their apartment in silence.


	9. Chapter 9

“You guys were together when your friend died, weren’t you?” 

Veronica’s hands involuntarily tightened on the steering wheel. They were exiting the Beltway to get on the access road to Dulles Airport- and that usually meant having to avoid some idiot who couldn’t figure out if he was supposed to be on the access road or the toll road, or some other idiot trying to count coins for the exact change lane at sixty per, or sometimes even both at once. She knew Hanne’s words were not the accusation her still-guilty conscience wanted to hear them as, but nevertheless Veronica was grateful for an excuse to avoid responding immediately, waiting until they were through the interchange and safely on the access road before answering, “Yeah, we were,” in a calm and even voice.

”So there’s that, there’s Jazz, there’s the two of you eyefucking each other-”

“What!” Veronica sputtered. “I- We- I-”

“I mean, I don’t blame you,” Hanne continued. “He’s cute. If I was into men I’d totally-”

“I just- I was just surprised to see him, that’s all,” Veronica protested.

“Hm.” Hanne’s eyebrows rose.

“That’s all,” Veronica repeated.

Hanne laid a hand on Veronica’s arm. “I’m just saying, be careful,” she said gently. “This whole thing is bound to be an emotional minefield. For both of you.” She hesitated, then continued, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really think having someone to talk to, someone who’s not-”

Veronica shook her head. “No.”

Hanne dropped her hand from Veronica’s arm with a frustrated sigh. “Just because the one your parents sent you to was a judgmental asshole, doesn't mean every therapist is that way.”

Veronica took one hand off the steering wheel and reached for Hanne’s hand. “I know.” Hanne let Veronica take her hand and bring it to her lips. “And I know how much help your therapist was for you, after your family disowned you,” Veronica continued. “But I’m not you. Let me handle things my own way. Please." Truth be told, Dr. Klein had probably been a decent enough therapist, but she'd been terrified of letting something slip that would reveal her to be a triple murderer. She was pretty sure doctor-patient confidentiality didn’t stretch that far, so she had flat-out refused to cooperate with him. That refusal hadn't helped her already rocky relationship with her parents either.

Hanne blew out a breath. “All right, fine.” She drew Veronica’s hand to her lips and placed a kiss on the back of Veronica’s hand before placing it gently back on the steering wheel. “But promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“That you’ll remember to use protection this time, because I am not about to start learning how to change diapers.”

Veronica responded with a single, upright finger as Hanne smirked at her.

“Which speaking of,” Hanne continued briskly, reaching across and tapping the inside of Veronica’s wrist, “you might want to cover this up if you’re not planning on telling him about Jazz right away.”

Veronica grimaced. Fortunately she’d been holding her drink in that hand, so her wrist had been turned away from JD. This tattoo was much smaller than the one he’d seen on her opposite arm, but an infinity loop with “Jason William” crossing a date nine months after they’d been together would not be too difficult for him to figure out. “Good point.”

"I know."

Veronica rolled her eyes.

"So, how much of your life since high school are you going to tell him about?”

“You mean about how I got through college?” Veronica shrugged. “Don’t know. Guess it depends on how much of an asshole he’s become.”

“That’s fair,” Hanne conceded. They drove the rest of the way to the terminal in companionable silence.

“I’m serious about the emotional minefield, though,” Hanne said as they hugged good-bye. “Promise me you won’t do anything drastic before I get back.”

Veronica wanted to kiss away the worry in her girlfriend’s voice- but they were in public, and Hanne was in her work uniform, the work that was currently the main financial support for their family- so she settled for tightening her embrace. “I won’t,” she promised. 


	10. Chapter 10

Veronica sat on top of the smaller of the two picnic tables, leaning back on her arms and lifting her face to the early afternoon sun. She’d chosen to dress simply for this meeting, in black jeans and a white t-shirt, wanting to draw a sharp line between the fashion-conscious girl she’d been in high school and the woman she was now. The broad leather and stainless steel cuff around her wrist added a possibly unfortunate touch of S&M to her outfit, but it was the only thing she had that was wide enough to completely cover up her tattoo of Jazz’s birthdate.

She’d chosen one of the picnic areas in Rock Creek Park for their meeting- it was public, but also isolated enough that they wouldn’t have to worry about being overheard. Veronica told herself she hadn’t technically lied- but she knew both Hanne and Señora Montalva were under the impression that she would be meeting with JD in a café or something like that. She just hadn’t bothered to correct their misapprehension. She’d left JD’s name and phone number with the older woman, telling her he was Jazz’s father, that they’d had an extremely bad breakup and to call the police if she didn’t hear from Veronica after three hours. She didn’t think he would try anything, but better safe than sorry.

A battered compact pickup truck turned into the small parking area and pulled up beside Veronica’s motorcycle. The driver’s door opened with a screech of unoiled metal and JD stepped out.

She had to admit, Hanne had not been wrong- the JD she’d known at sixteen had been cute too, but if she were being honest, a bit on the scrawny side. He’d filled out nicely since then; muscular, but not in that overly-exaggerated Ah-nuld way. Maybe-

JD paused to look back into the cab. “Come on, girl.”

Veronica sat up straight as a sleekly muscled, brown and white dog hopped down from the truck and followed JD.

“This is Bella,” JD said. “I hope you don’t mind, but since we moved here she hasn’t had as many chances to get out and run around as I’d like.” Bella pressed against JD’s leg, eyeing Veronica dubiously. “It’s all right, girl,” he said, patting Bella’s side.

Veronica slid down onto the bench, holding out a hand. “Hey there, Bella.”

Bella looked up at JD, then to Veronica, then back up at JD, then back to Veronica before moving forward and giving Veronica’s hand a cautious sniff.

Veronica leaned forward to pet Bella, only to stop as the dog shied away. “It’s all right, Bella,” she said softly. “Bella, it’s okay.” Bella stretched out her neck and sniffed at Veronica’s hand again, then she licked Veronica’s fingers. Veronica giggled. “Ew.”

JD grinned as Bella moved forward to lay her head on Veronica’s knee, looking up at her with imploring eyes. Veronica gave a wry smile and scratched behind Bella’s ears. “You can relax. It worked.” Veronica lifted her eyes to meet JD’s, gesturing to the bench beside her with her free hand. Bella closed her eyes in canine bliss, her tail wagging furiously.

JD answered with a wry smile of his own as he sat beside Veronica. “She really does need to run around for a bit.” He pulled a bright yellow ball from his pocket. “Hey. Hey, Bella. Want your ball? Want your ball?”

Bella sprang to quivering alertness, her eyes focused on the ball in JD’s hand as she danced from foot to foot. JD twisted in his seat and threw the ball towards the woods bordering the picnic area, well away from the parking lot and the road beyond. “Bella! Where’s your ball? Go get your ball.” Bella threw her head back, making a raspy, gurgling noise before racing away.

“Sorry to hear about you and Fernando.”

JD shrugged. “Wasn’t exactly expecting much, to be honest. Plus it’s that much more incentive to get off my ass and find a real yoga class.”

“You mean one with clothes?”

“Funny. No, I mean one like the one I was going to back in Oakland,” JD answered. “A good solid hour, hour and fifteen, and you’d be sweating at the end of it. Not a couple of sun salutations and then ‘Hey handsome. Come here often?’.” He shrugged again. “Not to say some guys didn’t hook up, but that wasn’t the main point.”

“Ah.” Veronica nodded. “Got it.”

"So, um, how are your parents?"

“Good. They're good,” Veronica answered. “Still in Sherwood. How’s your dad?”

“Semi-retired; lives in Florida now. Listens to way too much Rush.”

”Not the band, I’m guessing.”

JD shook his head.

“So are you running the company now, or..?”

JD shook his head again. “I’m not working for my father. Figure it’s better that way. He promoted one of the foremen to general manager and lets him deal with the day-to day stuff.” JD looked down at his hands. “He told me once that’s what he’d originally planned to do after that job in Texas,” he added softly. “It was going to be a surprise.”

Veronica didn’t need to ask which job he meant. She slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Anyway,” he continued, “the guy I’m working for does historic renovations, restorations, shit like that. I’m a carpenter now, got my journeyman’s card last year.” He gave a wry smile. “Honestly, it’s probably better if I keep away from the demolition side of things.”

Veronica couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Probably. So you’re like that guy Norm on that show on PBS? How very.”

JD laughed and shook his head. “Nah. I’m nowhere near that good. Yet.”

Veronica realized she was still holding JD’s hand. It was... nice. But that wasn’t why she was here, and she reluctantly disengaged her hand from his.

JD turned in his seat. “Bella!” he called. “Where’s your ball? Where’s your ball, Bella? Find your ball.” Bella raised her head from the bush she’d been assiduously sniffing and looked around. “Find your ball, Bella. Find your ball.” Bella made the same raspy, gurgling noise as before and trotted off to find her ball. JD turned back around. “She um, she gets distracted easily. So, um,” he ran a hand through his hair, “your parents are... all right with you and Hanne?”

Veronica’s mouth twisted. “I’m their daughter and they love me, even if they don’t understand some of the choices I’ve made in my life.” Sometimes she suspected they had given up on loving her, and only continued to tolerate her existence because they did love their grandson. Not that she would blame them if they had. “Is your dad..?”

“I’ve... never actually come out and said anything.” JD gave a humorless laugh. “It’s... one of a lot of things we don’t talk about. But, that’s my dad I guess. As long as he can convince himself everything’s fine, then-”

Bella dropped her ball into JD’s lap and made the same, raspy gurgling sound she’d made earlier. Looking closer, Veronica could see what looked like a scar across Bella’s throat as the dog danced from foot to foot. JD laughed. “Okay, Miss Bossy.” He held up the ball so Bella could see it, then turned and threw it again. “Go get your ball, Bella. Go get your ball.” Bella raced away.

“Her neck,” Veronica said, “it looks like there’s a scar or... something.”

“Yeah,” JD answered grimly. “Couple years ago the cops busted up this big dog-fighting ring, arrested a bunch of people.”

“Bella was a-”

JD shook his head. “She was just a puppy then. But she would have been.” He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “You need a license to be a dog breeder, but it’s just like a fine or something if you get caught, so there must have been something else. There were about thirty or so puppies,” he continued in a deliberately calm voice. “A few had had their throats slit, most had their heads bashed in. Then they were loaded into some garbage bags and tossed in a dumpster.”

“Oh my God.” Veronica felt her gorge rising, and she swallowed heavily. “How..?”

“They used the dumpster at my job site,” JD answered. “Anyway, one of the bags had split open and, well, one of the puppies was still moving. So I took her to the closest vet and- and they managed to save her.” He looked down at his hands, then back up at Veronica. “I haven’t killed anyone since- well, since we were together. But if I knew who that fucker was-” JD shut his mouth, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he looked away. “She still gets upset whenever she sees one of those big ass kitchen knives.”

“Hey.” Veronica reached out, grasped JD’s arm. “If you ever do find that fucker,” she hesitated as he turned back to face her, then gave into temptation. “Make the bastard hurt.”

JD’s lips curled back in a wolfish grin. “Deal.”

Veronica felt her own lips curl in an answering grin; just for a moment, she was- they were- sixteen again: focused and powerful and certain of their own righteousness. But then the memory of shattered glass and blue-stained lips resurfaced. Veronica drew her hand back.

JD cleared his throat. “Y’know, most people have the candle lit. Eternal flame and all that.”

“Huh? Oh.” Veronica looked down at her forearm, and at the black candle, wrapped in a red scrunchie, tattooed there. A single wisp of smoke curled up from the candle’s wick. “Yeah, well, considering everything, having it snuffed out seemed more appropriate somehow.” She looked up, off into the distance. “Hanne... thinks I feel guilty for not saving her; for not stopping her from committing suicide.” She turned to face JD. “What about you? Do you... regret what we did?”

“I... try not to think about it.” JD blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, yeah, she was a bitch and they were assholes and just generally thoroughly unpleasant fucks- but they were teenagers. Everyone’s a fucking asshole at that age. I just- I wonder sometimes... who they could have been. Who they might be now.”

Veronica tilted her head. ”Do you remember that night in the cow pasture?”

“Yeah..?”

“What do you remember? I mean, not you and me, but everyone else.”

“I... remember Kurt trying to climb the fence and falling on his ass. And yelling for you.”

“What about Ram? And Heather?”

“I- I think I could kind of see them, out there in the field, but it was dark, and kind of far away, and there were trees in the way- I don’t think I even knew it was them until you told me later.”

“Yeah, well, after we left, seems Heather had to ‘make it up’ to Kurt by ‘letting him have a turn’.”

“Have a turn,” JD repeated.

“Yeah. Apparently Ram was quite insistent. Said they’d leave her out there if she didn’t.” Veronica gave a humorless laugh. “Want to know the really crazy thing? Heather asked me if I thought it counted as cheating on Ram or not.”

JD blinked. “Suddenly, I’m not feeling nearly as bad about their deaths as I did.”

“I haven’t felt bad about it for years.”

They exchanged another predatory smirk, then JD frowned. “Wait- cheating? How the fuck..?”

“They’d had this weird off-again on-again thing going on since like, eighth grade. None of us understood it.” Veronica looked down at her tattoo again. “Heather though. That’s... different.”

“Yeah.”

They both fell silent, unable to meet each other's eyes.

Veronica shook her head; there was no point in going down that well-worn mental path again, even with company. She reached out, lightly touching JD’s arm. Her fingers traveled up his bicep, hesitating at the edge of his sleeve. JD obligingly pulled the sleeve up, revealing the tattoo she had wanted to see more closely: a heart, broken in two, with the word “Mom” above it and two dates below, the second a mere two years before they’d met. “She was... younger than I thought.”

“She married my dad at eighteen, had me less than a year later.”

Veronica blinked. Her own mother had been almost thirty when Veronica was born. She hadn’t planned on bringing Jazz up during this first meeting, but maybe... Deliberately keeping her voice casual, she asked, “Have you ever thought about it? Having a kid, I mean.”

JD snorted. “You know me, Veronica. You know what I’m... capable of. Hell, you know what my dad’s like.” He shook his head. “No, it’s better for everyone if the Dean line dies with me.” He tilted his head. “Have you?”

“Oh, not really.” Which was technically true- she’d gone from vaguely expecting to get married and have kids at some nebulous future date, directly into being a single mother. “I just wondered, that’s all.” Better to stick with the original plan: get to know who JD was now, then decide how much- if any- involvement he would have in her son’s life.

She scanned the other tattoos on his arms, looking for something that would let her change the subject. Her eyes landed on a traditional-style pinup of a brunette wearing a one-piece blue swimsuit. Even the hair looked something like hers used to. Veronica’s lips curled in a smile. “Should I be flattered?”

JD smiled back. “Maybe.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows.

“It... wasn’t deliberate,” JD confessed. “It just felt right.” He shrugged. “I dunno, maybe it was a subconscious thing or something.”

“Or something,” Veronica echoed. There was one way she could get to know him better. She laid a hand on JD’s chest, felt his breath hitch under her fingers. She bit her lip, suddenly unable to form words. There were so many reasons this was a bad idea.

JD covered Veronica’s hand with his. “Veronica..?”

But then, she’d always been reckless where he was concerned, hadn’t she? “Hanne and I- our relationship- it’s important. To both of us.”

“I’m glad for you. Truly.”

“But,” Veronica continued, “she’s also gone for like twenty, twenty-five days out of the month.”

JD frowned in confusion.

“She has an ex- Dinah- that she still sees whenever she’s in LA.”

“I don’t-”

Veronica placed a finger against JD’s lips. “It’s not something I take advantage of very often, but, I am allowed to play.”

JD tilted his head. “Play?”

Veronica leaned in, bringing her lips to JD’s ear and dropping her voice to a husky murmur, “Play.” Then her pager buzzed.

What the- It hadn’t been anywhere close to three hours yet, had it? Veronica snatched the pager off her belt- but instead of Señora Montalva’s name and number, she saw the name and number of Jazz’s school displayed on the tiny screen. Veronica felt the blood drain from her face. She looked around desperately, but of course this picnic area was too small for Bell Atlantic to bother putting a pay phone in. Fuck, did she even have a quarter?

“Veronica? What is it? What’s-”

Veronica scrambled to her feet. “I can’t- I’m sorry- I need to-.” She grabbed her jacket and helmet from the table. “I’m sorry-”

“Veronica!“ She stared as JD pulled one of those fancy new flip phones off his belt and held it out to her. “Would this help?” He squinted up at the trees around them. “I’m pretty sure you can still get a signal in here.”

Veronica smiled gratefully as she took the phone. “Thank you.”

JD shrugged. “It’s a work phone. Just um, just dial the number and press the green button. I’ll... go help Bella find her ball.”

Veronica quickly dialed the number on her pager, her shoulders slumping with relief when she heard the telephone on the opposite end of the call ringing. It rang twice, then a woman’s voice came on the line. “Principal Maxwell’s office, may I help you?”

“Yes, this is Veronica Sawyer. I received a page from this number..?”

“Yes, Mrs. Sawyer. Just a moment while I transfer you.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited.

“Mrs. Sawyer?” a second woman’s voice inquired.

“Yes. Is Jazz all right? What’s-”

“Jason is fine, Mrs. Sawyer,” the principal interrupted firmly. “I wanted to speak with you because he was involved in an altercation this morning.”

“An altercation,” Veronica repeated. “You mean a fight?"

“Yes, a fight. If it all possible, I’d like to set up a conference with you and the parents of the other boy involved to discuss our options going forward. I was hoping to set something up for this afternoon, after school lets out, of course. Would that be possible for you and your husband, Mrs. Sawyer? Say four o’clock?”

All this over a simple fight? “It’s Ms. Sawyer. I’m not married.”

“Oh. Oh dear, I’m terribly-"

“And yes, four will be fine. Was there anything else?”

“No, no,” Principal Maxwell responded. “I look forward to meeting you, Ms. Sawyer.”

“I’ll see you at four then.” Veronica ended the call.

Across the picnic area, JD was holding Bella’s ball up in the air as she repeatedly leapt for it. He turned as Veronica approached, lowering his hand. “Is everything-” Bella snatched the ball from him and ran underneath the larger picnic table. ”Is everything all right?”

Veronica grimaced. “More or less. I may need to yell at someone.” She held out the phone. “Thank you again.”

JD took the phone and clipped it back onto his belt. “Of course.”

“I uh, I need to go,” Veronica said. For a moment she was tempted to tell him everything, but maybe now wasn’t the best time. “But maybe we can... talk again sometime?”

JD smiled. “I’d like that.”

Veronica smiled back. “Well... thanks again for the phone.”

“Anytime.”

They stood, just looking at each other, then Veronica cleared her throat. “I uh, I really should get going.”

“Oh. Right.” JD nodded. “Right.”

Veronica turned and walked over to her bike. She couldn’t help looking back at JD one last time. He gave a little wave; she waved back, then started her bike and rode off. 


	11. Chapter 11

“He’s an asswipe.”

“So are a lot of people, kiddo,” Veronica answered. “Doesn’t mean we go around socking them in the eye.”

Jazz folded his arms, face set in a truculent scowl as he slumped back against the row of lockers.

“You want to tell me what really happened?” Veronica continued. She’d changed out of her jeans and t-shirt into slacks and a long-sleeved vintage blouse- one that hid her tattoos- and removed her nose ring for this meeting. She tilted her head. “Or should I ask Mrs. Maxwell?”

Jazz scoffed. “He thinks he’s better than everyone cause his dad works for some Senator and his mom like, runs some kind of foundation institute thingy or something.”

“And that’s why you punched him.”

“I wouldn’t have if he wasn’t being a butthead.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows.

“He asked me what my parents did.” Jazz shoved off from the locker and started to pace back and forth, gesticulating as he spoke. “So I told him you ran a bookstore. And he asked which one so I told him and then he asked what my dad did and I said I didn’t have one and he seemed cool about it and everything but then he went around telling everyone I was a bastard and you were a dyke that slept with a bunch of guys so I didn’t know who my dad was and I-“ Jazz stopped and let his arms drop. “I just got so mad.”

Veronica blinked. “Well... first off, don’t say dyke. It’s rude. Say lesbian.”

Jazz rolled his eyes. “I know, Mom. That’s what he said.”

“And second, technically you are a bastard. But I do know who your father is.”

“But I don’t. You’ve never told me anything about him.”

“I... didn’t think you were interested.”

Jazz slumped back against the locker again. “Shows what you know,” he muttered to the toes of his shoes.

“Jason William.”

Jazz’s eyes flicked up to meet hers.

Veronica sighed. “He- Your father-”

”Ms. Sawyer?” They both turned to see the school secretary standing a few feet away. “The Petersons are here.”

“We’ll be right there,” Veronica answered. She turned back to Jazz, gave her son a small smile. “Let’s talk about this later, all right, kiddo?”

Jazz rolled his eyes as he shoved off from the locker. “Sure, Mom. Whatever.”

A boy sat in a chair to one side of the secretary’s desk, holding an ice pack over one eye as he glowered at Jazz with the other. Jazz sneered and threw himself into the chair on the opposite side. “You can just go on in,” the secretary said, pointedly ignoring the boys’ antics as she inserted a triplicate form into her electric typewriter. 

”Thank you.”

Mrs. Maxwell, a gray-haired, matronly-looking woman, looked up as Veronica opened the door and stepped inside her office. Two pairs of chairs formed a triangle with her desk; the right-hand pair already occupied by a man and a woman, both at least a decade older than Veronica. They were wearing suits that probably cost as much as she made in a month. Each.

The couple turned to look at her, the woman managing to look down her nose at Veronica, and her thrift-store wardrobe, even from her seated position. The man gave Veronica an oleaginous smirk as he eyed her up and down. “Miss Sawyer, I presume?”

Veronica plastered on a tight smile. “I prefer Ms. Sawyer,” she corrected as she took her seat.

"And I prefer Mrs. Peterson," the woman replied with a disdainful sniff. “Small wonder the child is such a delinquent.”

“I beg your pardon?” Veronica responded in her frostiest tone.

Mrs. Peterson deliberately shifted her eyes to the empty chair next to Veronica, then back to Veronica. “You understand me perfectly well, Ms. Sawyer.”

“Now, Phyllis, remember your Christian charity,” Mr. Peterson admonished, the pious sentiment rather undercut by the way his gaze lingered on Veronica’s chest.

“I suppose it isn’t the child’s fault he was raised in such... unfortunate circumstances,” Mrs. Peterson conceded.

Veronica suppressed the urge to give both of the Petersons black eyes to match their son’s. She glanced over at Mrs. Maxwell, who looked down at the papers on her desk, not meeting Veronica’s eyes. “Shall we begin?” Mrs. Maxwell asked brightly.

  
Veronica idly swirled the half-melted ice cubes remaining in her glass as she sat on the small balcony outside her and Hanne’s bedroom. It had been quite some time since anyone had so blatantly thrown the whole unwed teenage mother thing in her face like that. Honestly, it had been kind of refreshing- most people were too polite to actually say anything, instead just silently condemning her once they found out. Or worse, pitying her. She’d once naively assumed that it would become less of an issue once she was no longer an actual teenager but... people could still add. Or subtract. Whatever. It didn’t help that her petite height and slender build made her look younger than she actually was either.

Jazz had had to apologize to the Peterson kid- what the fuck was his name again?- and now had a week of in-school suspension ahead of him, but he hadn’t been expelled, which is what the Petersons had wanted for the “vicious and unprovoked attack”. Veronica snorted and took a swig from her glass, grimacing at the watered-down remnants of her gin and tonic.

She set her glass down on the small table beside her, next to the handset for the cordless phone, and blew out a breath. It was time to face what she’d been avoiding thinking about: Jazz’s father, and everything that came along with his reappearance in her life.

“_It’s probably better if the Dean line ends with me._” A little late for that, although since Jazz was technically a Sawyer she supposed the Dean line was indeed ending with him. More importantly though, how would he react to knowing he- knowing they- had a son? Would he try to take over, take Jazz away from her? Or would he want nothing to do with his son, try to deny paternity and shit? And even more importantly, what was she going to tell Jazz? “Hey, kiddo, you were conceived while your mom and dad were in the middle of murdering three people.” If that wasn’t a recipe for massive therapy bills, she didn’t know what was. And that brought up another issue.

It wasn’t that Veronica had wanted JD to have killed anyone else in the years since Westerburg- not... exactly. But wouldn’t it lessen her moral culpability for those deaths she had been involved with, if he’d killed someone else too? Kind of? She wasn’t innocent, far from it- she’d known exactly which cup she’d been picking up off that counter, and she’d been perfectly fine with leaving two nearly-naked boys unconscious and bleeding in the woods on a chilly spring morning- but she hadn’t wanted any of them dead. Just... humiliated and suffering.

Oh yeah, a real Polly Pureheart she was. Hell, if you thought about it, if she’d really believed JD about those ich luge bullets, wouldn’t she have fired at Kurt the first time, instead of up in the air like she did? After all, he wouldn’t have been hurt, not really. Just... kind of. And that had been exactly what she’d wanted, hadn’t it? The same way she hadn’t actually wanted Heather dead when she’d picked up that cup of drain cleaner.

Veronica groaned. There was a reason she tried to avoid thinking about the past, especially that part of her past. It just lead to questions she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers to. She stared at the cordless phone- maybe if she just like, didn’t call him, didn’t think about him ever again...

Veronica cursed and snatched up the handset, dialing the number she’d already memorized before she could change her mind.

He picked up on the third ring. “H’lo?”

“You’ll have to keep your clothes on, and the only other guy in the class is so straight it’s painful, but it’s a real class for real yogis.”

There was a long pause, then, “Veronica? It’s like, two in the morning.”

Shit, was it really that late? She twisted in her chair, trying to catch sight of the clock radio by the bed. Glowing red numbers confirmed that it was 2:06 AM. “Shit, sorry. Never mind, I’ll-”

“No, no, ‘sfine” JD interrupted. “When and where?”

“Huh?”

“The class. When and where?”

“Oh.” She told him, adding, “Fair warning, it’s an advanced class, and the instructor’s a real bitch. She’ll kick you out if she thinks you’re not up to it.”

There was another pause, then, “Thanks.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for waking you up. Let’s talk later, okay?”

“M’kay.”

“And, uh, sweet dreams.”

“You too.”

“Bye.” Veronica hung up and let her head fall back. “Fuck.” She stared unseeing at the darkened sky above her for a long moment, then levered herself up out of the chair with a grunt. She stumbled inside, shedding her clothes along the way, then collapsed into bed and pulled the covers up over her head.


	12. Chapter 12

Veronica smirked at JD as he halted in the doorway of the yoga studio. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she let her smirk widen into a grin. “Everyone, this is JD.”

JD lifted his hand. “Hey, everyone.” A chorus of “Hey’s, “Hi’s” and one “How ya doin’?” answered him.

Veronica patted the empty space directly in front of her. She’d deliberately kept it open for him, which JD acknowledged with a wry smile as he came the rest of the way into the studio. He laid out his mat where she’d indicated and started to do some simple stretches.

Veronica looked around the class. “All right, looks like Angel and Cathy aren’t here yet. Let’s give them a few more minutes before we get started.” She glanced down at her wrist, confirming that the bandanna she’d tied around it to cover her tattoo was still secure.

Diana, an older black woman with her hair in canerows and her speech flavored with the sounds of her native Trinidad, said, “There’s construction blocking off a lane coming down New Hampshire, just past University. I know Cathy works out that way, she might be caught in traffic.”

“And didn’t Angel say her parents were coming up for a visit?” Bodhi added. An older man with a fringe of curly dark hair and a heavy beard, he and Diana were the oldest members of their group, both of them about the age of Veronica’s own parents. She suspected Bodhi was not the name his parents had given him, due to his pale skin and almost stereotypically heavy Brooklyn accent, but felt it would be impolite to ask.

“That’s right, she did,” Veronica answered with an inward sigh of relief. She’d realized when she’d woken up this morning that there was a chance someone (probably Diana) would ask how Jazz was doing in his new school during the casual before-class chit-chat, and had almost called JD back and told him the class had been cancelled. She wasn’t entirely sure why she hadn’t. “All right then- if everyone’s ready, let’s get started. Cathy can catch up when she gets here.” She glanced at JD, who gave her a slight nod. “Let’s start off with naginyasana...”

“Namaste.” Veronica bowed, receiving a rippling chorus of “Namaste”s in return. “Thank you everyone for an excellent class.” 

“So, JD, right?” Veronica looked over to see Bodhi casually rolling up his mat as he stood next to JD. She stilled, curious but not yet worried. The two had not been next to each other during class.

“Yup,” JD answered, slipping the straps around his mat and standing. “Didn’t catch yours.”

“Bodhi.”

JD nodded in acknowledgment.

”So what brings you here?” Behind Bodhi, Diana rolled her eyes, casting them heavenwards.

”Veronica and I knew each other back in high school,” JD answered mildly, slinging his mat over his shoulder. “Just moved here from Oakland.” He shrugged. “I find it’s easier to keep my practice up if I’m part of a group.”

“Well we’re glad to have you, JD,” Diana said, handing Bodhi his mat bag. “Diana.”

JD placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly. “Pleasure.” His eyes slid over to Veronica. “Although I hear our instructor is pretty tough; don’t know if I meet her high standards.”

Veronica stood. “Your tittibhasana could have been steadier, and I’d like to see a deeper bend from you on ardha chakrasana, but,” she took a step closer, her eyes meeting his, “I think I can work with you.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Veronica smirked.

Bodhi cleared his throat. “You parked in the garage? It can be a little tricky getting out after 5.”

“Hm?” JD blinked, then turned his head, breaking eye contact with her. “I... didn’t know there was a garage.”

“Actually, I need JD to fill out some paperwork anyway,” Veronica said. “I can show him all that when we leave.”

Diana’s eyebrows rose. “If you’re sure.”

Veronica nodded. “It’s fine.”

“All right, we’ll see you next week then,” Diana responded. Bodhi nodded as he slung his and Diana’s mat bags over his shoulder. He and Diana left, followed by Talia and Stacy, along with Cathy- who had been about 15 minutes late. All three shot curious glances towards JD as they left.

“Paperwork?”

Veronica grimaced. “Unfortunately yeah, if you want to keep taking the class. But after that,” she took a step closer to JD, her hand coming up to hover in front of his chest, “I know this little hole-in-the-wall bar where they won’t care that we’re both sweaty and-”

JD seized her wrist. “What are you up to?”

Veronica gasped, then deliberately widened her eyes. “Up to? I’m not-”

He snorted. “Right. Because everything was absolutely terrific when we were together. Just some wonderful memories to look back on. Three dead kids and you fucking hanging yourself, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she snarled back, yanking her arm free. “Not only do I remember, I have nightmares too: Ones where your dad doesn’t notice the missing explosives, and I can’t find you, or the ones where, God help me, I let you convince me they’re just more ich luge crap.”

JD’s shoulders slumped. “You’re not the only one.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Just... give me the damned paperwork.”

Veronica stared at him for a long moment, then turned and walked into the small storage closet that doubled as the studio’s office, emerging a few moments later with a clipboard and a pen. Perhaps it was time for a little honesty. “I have... people I care about. And I need to know,” she swallowed heavily, “I need to know if you’re the boy I played strip croquet with, or the boy who crawled through my window with a gun.”

JD’s mouth twisted as she handed him the pen and clipboard. “Both. Neither. I...” His voice trailed off.

“Yeah,” she answered softly. He said nothing, merely sank down to sit on the floor and started filling out the forms she’d handed him. She went over and started tidying the already neatly stacked blocks and bolsters. 

“I, uh, I need to let Bella out.” He stood and walked toward her, holding out the pen and clipboard. “Take her for a walk, give her her dinner, that sort of thing.”

“Oh.” She took both items from him, held the clipboard against her chest. “Okay.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “But, uh, maybe some other time?”

She smiled. “Some other time.”

He brightened. “Or hey, you could-” He stopped, shook his head. “No, never mind, dumb idea.”

“What?”

He shook his head again. “Forget it.”

She can see a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, and he won’t meet her eyes. “What?” she repeated, taking a step closer to him.

He took a breath and lifted his eyes to meet hers. “I was going to say, you could come over, but that’s probably not-”

“Okay,” she blurted.

“What?”

“Just, uh, just give me two minutes to lock up and um, and I’ll meet you in the hallway.”

“Really?”

“Yes, yes. Now shoo.”

A broad grin spread across his face, and he gave her a sloppy salute as he picked up his mat and water bottle. “Shooing now, ma’am.” She shook her head, but couldn’t help grinning back as he stepped out into the hall.

As soon as the door closed behind JD she darted into the office and dialed Señora Montalva’s number. The older woman agreed to let Jazz spend the night on her couch, and promised they wouldn’t stay up late watching telenovelas again, since Jazz had school in the morning. Veronica gave her the address JD had written down, and thanked her again before hanging up. She double-checked to be sure the answering machine was on, then turned off the lights in the office and the studio, locking each door behind her as she went.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated the rating on this from Teen to Mature. If you are a teen, please consult with a trusted adult before continuing.

It’s not nearly as bristly as I thought it would be.” Veronica said, fingertips tracing the edges of JD’s beard. “I kind of like it, actually. It’s- It’s different than before. But in a good way.” She was babbling, and she needed to stop talking before she let something slip she didn’t want him to know. But good sex always made her chatty, and that at least had never been an issue between them. Her standards were higher now than they’d been at sixteen, but JD seemed to have learned a few things since then too. 

They were lying on JD’s couch, limbs tangled together. Veronica frowned, then lifted her head and looked around. This was a studio apartment, and not a particularly large one, but she could see no sign of a bed. She took in the pillow behind JD’s head, and the blanket he’d pulled down over them. “Do you... sleep here? On the couch?”

“It folds out into a bed,” JD answered.

Veronica looked at the coffee table in front of the couch, still holding the remains of the simple dinner he’d made after they’d walked Bella, then back to JD.

“Most of the time I don’t bother,” he admitted. He bit his lip, then asked, “Are you going to tell Hanne about this?”

Veronica sat up, blanket clutched to her chest. His question had sounded almost... hostile. “Of course.”

“Really?”

That was definitely hostile. “Yes. I told you, she and I have- No, you know what? This was a bad idea.” She started to scramble up, blanket still clutched to her chest. “Let’s just pretend this never-”

JD lunged forward and grabbed her wrist. “Wait-” 

Bella’s head jerked up as she was startled from sleep.

Veronica leaned forward, bending her elbow so her arm went underneath JD’s, forcing his wrist back and breaking his grip. “Don’t,” she snarled. Fuck it, she’d tell Jazz his father was dead or something. Where had her clothes-

Bella shoved in between them and gave a loud whine, instantly drawing JD’s attention. “Hey, hey. Hush now,” he said soothingly, stroking Bella’s head. “It’s fine, Bella. Everything’s fine.” He looked back up at Veronica. “Look, I’m sorry, I just- I’m sorry.” He slumped back against the pillow. “Maybe you’re right.”

Veronica hesitated, one foot on the floor and the other still on the couch. “JD? What is it? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath as he did. “I’m just an asshole, that’s all.”

“Yeah, you are.” She sank back down. “Tell me.” JD looked away, and she could see the muscles tensing in his jaw. Jazz did the same thing when he was upset, and she wondered how many other mannerisms father and son shared. She reached out and placed a hand on JD’s arm. “Please.”

JD looked at the hand on his arm, then raised his eyes to meet hers. “Just before I moved out here, I was seeing this woman. She was married, but she said the marriage was dead. Swore she was going to leave him and we could be together. Really together.” He snorted. “But somehow, it was never quite the right time for her to actually leave. Turns out their marriage was just fine, and all she really wanted was the excitement of an affair with someone ‘dangerous’. Took me a lot longer to figure that out than it should have.”

Veronica raised her eyebrows. “Doesn’t sound fine to me, not if she was having an affair.”

“Yeah, well.” JD shrugged.

“Hanne is in Barcelona right now, but once she gets back,” Veronica placed a hand on his thigh and slid it slowly upwards as she spoke, over his stomach and his chest, her eyes never leaving his as her body followed until she was stretched out against him once more. “You and I and her will have lunch together, or something. And talk.”

He gave her a sardonic look, but tightened his arm around her in a brief hug. “All right. Probably should have done that first though.”

“Probably,” Veronica agreed. Bella whimpered, and Veronica twisted slightly so she could pet Bella as well. “Was that why you moved out here?”

“Partially. More just wanting to get the fuck out of California, once I could.”

“Once you could? Why-” JD’s hand stilled, and she could feel him tense beneath her. “If it’s not-”

JD shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine.” He blew out a breath. “Kind of a long story though.”

“I’ve got time.”

JD eyed her for a long moment, then shrugged. “All right, but I want to hear about how you went from Sherwood, Ohio to teaching yoga in DC.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Honestly, I’d have thought you’d be a doctor or a lawyer or something by now.”

“Yeah, well,” Veronica shrugged. “That’s kind of a long story too.” Her eyes went to the bandanna still tied around her wrist. She’d need to choose her words carefully so as not to reveal Jazz’s existence prematurely. “And I don’t just teach yoga.”

“I’ve got time,” JD echoed. “Anyway, after we- my dad and I- after we left Sherwood, we went out to my aunt and uncle’s place in California, this little town called Galeston City on the California-Nevada border.” He laughed. “Place was probably a third the size of Sherwood, if that. And ten times as dull.”

“Yeesh.”

“Yeah. My dad got out of there quick as he could, found a job in... Iowa I think it was.” JD paused, then said, “I got your letter.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him.

“Figured you were better off without me in your life.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Still not entirely sure you’re not.”

She stared at him for a long moment, then laid her head back down on his chest. She wasn’t ready to tell him the real reason she’d written that letter, not yet, but she didn’t want to lie to him either. “Neither am I. Or me in yours, for that matter.”

JD cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he continued, “I spent most of that summer in my uncle’s guest room, staring up at the ceiling. Well, that and sleeping like, eighteen hours a day.”

“You? Sleep?”

“Yeah, that’s- I’m getting to that part.”

Veronica frowned in confusion. “Okay?”

“Thing is, my uncle’s pretty religious, my aunt too, but mainly my uncle. So when fall rolled around, instead of sending me to another sinful public school, they enrolled me in this ‘academy’ they’d heard about through their church. The Maccabean Academy: Making good, clean-cut, God-fearing men out of troubled and rebellious youth through prayer and discipline.”

Veronica tilted her head up and smirked. “Seems to have worked with you.” Her smile faded as she took in his tightly clenched jaw. “JD?”

“This one time, I got caught smoking- they sat me down, gave me a cigarette, lit it, and then hit me with a shock stick.”

Veronica sat up, the blanket sliding down to her waist. “What the fuck?”

“They were big on what they called ‘discipline poses’,” JD continued, his eyes focused on something far beyond the walls of his apartment. “Like making you stand on a small box with your feet together, blindfolded and holding a pair of weights in your outstretched arms. If you dropped the weights, or just let them get too low, you’d get shocked.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Or this other one, where you stand on your toes, put your back against the wall and slide down until your ass touches your ankles, and stay in that position for like twenty minutes, all while holding out a weight in front of you. That one was for ‘disrespecting a teacher’s authority’, I think. Oh, and your knees couldn’t touch the ground either.”

“Holy fuck.” Veronica ran a hand through her hair. “I always hated that move- my ankles would be fucking screaming by the end of the night- I can’t imagine having to hold it for that long. And with a weight too.”

JD’s eyes refocused on her. “What? How-” 

“Never mind,” she said hastily. That was another thing she wasn’t prepared to tell him about just yet. “How were they able to get away with that shit?”

JD gave her a long look, but answered, “A lot of the kids had juvie records, been kicked out of regular school and needed to be ‘straightened out’. And some of them were there for a different kind of ‘straightening out’, like my roommate- he was there cause his dad came home early and caught him with another guy’s cock in his mouth.”

“Jesus,” she repeated.

“A part of me felt like, it was what I deserved.”

Veronica shook her head. “Nobody deserves shit like that.” Her mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “And that’s coming from someone who once totally planned on shooting your sorry ass.”

“Gee, thanks.” JD tilted his head. “If my dad hadn’t... stopped me, would you really have shot me?”

Veronica lifted her chin. “Guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“Guess not,” JD acknowledged, then he deliberately looked Veronica up and down. “Although if this would have been my last sight...”

Veronica narrowed her eyes at JD, then scooted back to curl up at the far end of the couch, wrapping the blanket around herself and sticking her tongue out at him. JD smirked back at her as he sat up and crossed his legs, pulling the pillow from behind him and placing it in his lap. 

Bella snorted, shaking her head hard enough to make the tags of her collar jingle, then went back to her bed in the small kitchen alcove, circling it three times before settling down with her back to them. Veronica met JD’s eyes, and they both dissolved into helpless giggles.

“What was he like?” Veronica asked. “Your roommate, I mean.”

“You probably would have liked him,” JD answered. “His real name was Foung, but he went by Jeff for us dumb Americans.” He tilted his head. “In fact, he kind of reminded me of you in a lot of ways.” He fell silent, fingers toying absently with the edge of the pillow, then blew out a breath and looked back up at Veronica. “You can probably guess some of the shit they put him through.”

“I’ve been trying not to.”

“Yeah, well... He didn’t want to be ‘straightened out’.” JD looked back down at the pillow in his lap. “Maccabean was in this old deserted convent out in the desert- I mean, real old, like when California was still Mexican old. So it had a lot of these little nun’s rooms all in a row that they jammed a pair of bunk beds in. Oh, and they’d taken all the doors off, but our room was down at the end of the hallway, and the floorboards creaked, so when Jeff asked if he could watch me jack off, I said sure.” He looked up again, meeting Veronica’s eyes. “Things... progressed from there.”

Veronica smiled softly. “I’m glad.”

JD’s mouth twisted. “Yeah, well, we should have been more careful- one of the instructors caught us.”

“Oh shit, what happened?”

“I... don’t think he was expecting what he saw,” JD answered. “He tripped and fell and, when he tried to get back up I,” JD’s voice went flat, “I slammed his head against the wall.”

“Was he..?”

JD shook his head. “Jeff checked. Bastard was still breathing.”

Veronica slumped in relief. “What happened then?”

“It was one of the senior instructors, so he had a key to the front door. We grabbed it and ran.” JD paused. “Made it out to the highway- traded some trucker a double blowjob for a ride.” He shrugged. “Couple more rides got us to Fresno.”

Veronica wrinkled her nose. “Fresno? Why? I mean, why not like, LA? Or San Francisco even?”

JD gave her an odd look, but answered, “Jeff was from Fresno. Or some suburb outside of it anyway. Point is, he knew people there, people who’d let us crash on their floors for a bit.”

“Well, that’s good, right?”

“I guess. Anyway, we kinda bounced from place to place for a bit, did whatever we could to make a little money- picking fruit, washing dishes, shoveling cow shit, whatever- so long as we got handed some cash at the end of the day. Even managed to get my hands on a couple tools so I could get work on a building site or two. Started making enough to pay for our own place. Well, more or less, week-to-week in this old hotel from like, the nineteen teens- you could hear the rats running through the walls at night, and the bathroom was down at the end of the hall and shared with like a dozen other people- but it was something, and nobody asked questions.” JD fell silent, his concentration seemingly absorbed by the stitching along the edge of his pillow. 

Veronica considered his story so far, and how much of it she should believe. He’d lied to her before, yes, but... had she been willing to believe him then to avoid facing the reality of what they were doing, and had already done? She didn’t particularly want to believe what he was telling her now, but she’d learned just how cruel the world could be since Sherwood. She stretched out her leg, prodding him with her toe. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” JD shook his head. “Turns out, the gay thing wasn’t the only reason Foung was at Maccabean- he... was an addict, too.” JD looked up with a twisted smile. “I’m not going to pretend I was any kind of saint- I shot up myself, a time or two- but I was still going out and getting work.” He shrugged. “Of course, it helped that I was back on the upswing and only sleeping like an hour or two a night by that point.”

Veronica frowned. Only sleeping for a couple of hours; that sounded more like the JD she’d known- she was starting to get a bad feeling about where this was going.

“It started out like all the other times before,” JD continued. “But then, he- he started shaking, all over, and it- it just kept getting worse and worse and- and then he started vomiting and I- I didn’t know what to do.”

This was so much worse. “JD-”

“He died in my arms.”

Veronica had no idea what to say; everything she could think of seemed trite and meaningless. She shifted, settled next him and wrapped the blanket around them both. Bella came over as well, and laid her head on JD’s knee. After a long moment, JD lifted his hand and began stroking Bella’s head.

“I- I don’t remember much after that,” JD said quietly. “They told me I had this length of old, rusted pipe and was just... smashing things. Broke some guy’s arm before the cops managed to get it away from me and pin me down.”

“What happened then?” Veronica asked softly.

“Well, since it was a violent crime, and there were drugs, and I was over sixteen, I was tried as an adult. But, since I was under eighteen, they contacted my dad.” JD grimaced. “Much as I hate to admit it, he did shell out for a damn good lawyer- if I’d been stuck with some overworked public defender, I’d probably still be in jail.”

“Remind me to thank him. For that at least.”

JD grunted in acknowledgment.

“So... what was Perry Mason’s brilliant defense?”

JD’s jaw tightened. “My trial,” he said evenly, “is where I found out that my mother had been diagnosed as manic-depressive, or bipolar as they call it now.”

Veronica straightened. “Is that why she...?”

JD spread his hands. “Maybe? Who knows. The point is, that kind of thing tends to run in families-“

Veronica’s eyes widened.

“-so I had suffered a psychological break- psychotic break, really- due to the shock of my, quote, close friend’s horrific death, exacerbated by the possible existence of an underlying, and untreated, psychological condition. Since my piss test came back negative and the blood test was inconclusive, the DA dropped the drug charges. Had to make restitution for the shit I busted up- and I’m still paying that off- and then I spent a year and seven months as a guest of the State of California. Would’ve been two but I got time off for good behavior and getting my GED.”

“You- You were in prison?”

JD nodded. “Yup, I was in Minnie- minimum security- and you better believe there were jokes about that,” he added with a wry smile. “Anyway, worst part about being in Minnie is instead of individual cells like you see in the movies and shit, you’re in this big open room with rows of bunk beds. Got loud as fuck sometimes. After that- oh yeah, and I did get officially diagnosed as bipolar while I was in there- I went into CONREP- that’s uh, the Conditional Release Program- meaning I was on supervised probation and had to go to a state-approved psychiatrist for about eight more years.” He shrugged. “Would have been five, but I had a couple of minor setbacks. Anyway, that ended a couple months ago, and I moved out here right after.”

“A- A psychological break,” she repeated numbly. “A shock. Like- Like-”

“Like handing someone a drink and having them crash through a glass coffee table? Yeah, probably. Fortunately I had enough other bad shit in my life to talk about, so Sherwood never came up.”

“But... you’re better now, right? You’re cured.”

JD shook his head. “It’s not something you cure. It’s something you manage. I got released because the State of California figures I can be trusted to take my medication without someone watching over my shoulder.” He bit his lip, then continued. “Something like 99% of crazy people are more dangerous to themselves than to anyone else- figures I’d hit that lottery out of everything.” He turned to fully face Veronica. “I don’t ever want to become that person who thought blowing up a gym full of teenagers was a good idea. Never again. So I take my medicine, go to therapy, practice yoga and meditation, whatever I can to try and keep my mind on a more or less even keel. Hell, even taking care of Bella here helps keeps me stable, at least a little bit.” JD reached over and took Veronica’s hands in his. “I know it’s a lot, and I understand if it’s not something you’re prepared to deal with, but ever since we ran into each other, I’ve been hoping, we could maybe... start over? As friends?”

Veronica couldn’t help it, the laughter simply burst out of her. JD dropped her hands, and she could see the hurt on his face. She grabbed his hands back and pressed them to her chest before that hurt could become twisted into anger. “JD my love, as wonderful as that sounds, we can’t start over. Too much has changed; we’re not those dumb, innocent kids anymore.” She released his hands, fingers going to the knot in the bandanna around her wrist. She untied the bandanna, let it fall and held out her wrist so JD could see her tattoo. “We have a son.”


	14. Chapter 14

“He,uh, he goes by Jazz,” Veronica stammered as JD stared silently at her wrist. “He’s a- He’s a great kid, really smart and um, he’s tall for his age, probably be taller than me in another year or two. And, uh, he’s an artist too. He- He’s like, really good and- and I’m not just saying that cause he’s my kid and all but like, he’s won awards and shit and- and-” She fell silent as JD’s mouth opened, then closed again.

His mouth opened again, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “That,” JD said to her wrist, “is not what I thought you were trying to keep covered up.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “A- a son?”

She nodded silently.

“A son,” he repeated. “I- You... and me- We- We have a- Wow.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s- Wow.”

“Yeah, it is.”

JD reached out and lightly, almost reverently traced his fingers along her stomach. “Are- Are these from..?”

Veronica drew in a breath. She’d been luckier than a lot of women- the stretch marks from her pregnancy had soon faded to near-invisibility- but they were still there. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d noticed. “Yeah,” she answered. One corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. “We won’t talk about what your son did to my hips.”

“My son,” JD repeated softly. “I- I wish I’d been there,” he continued. “To see you, I mean.”

Veronica felt the breath catch in her throat.

“As for hips,” he added, mouth twisting into a smile, “is that why you have such a gorgeous ass?”

Veronica laughed. “Liar.” She threw her arms around JD’s neck and pressed her forehead against his. “But thank you.” They both knew she was talking about more than what he’d just said. She drew back, her eyes searching his face. “Are- Are you all right with this? Truly?”

“Yes.”

“Because if you’re not that’s- that’s fine,” she continued. “I mean, this isn’t about like, money or anything, I just- I mean, I figured you should know, y’know?”

JD smiled. “I know. Thank you.” He drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Can I- May I... see him? Meet... Jazz?”

Veronica grinned. “Give me a day or two, let me talk to him. He’s been asking about you lately, so I don’t think it will be a problem.”

JD nodded. “Okay, that’s fair.” He bit his lip. “Do you... need to be back by, sometime soon?”

Veronica shook her head. “Señora Montalva, the lady downstairs who watches him, lets him sleep on her couch. She’ll even make him breakfast- usually a better one than he gets at home, if I’m being honest.” 

“Good.” JD’s lips curled in a smile. “Because that means,” he lifted his fingers to lightly cup her chin, “that I’ve got some time,” drawing her to him as his voice dropped to a husky murmur, “to get thoroughly reacquainted with his mother.”


End file.
